Title: Custom-made Daydream
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: AJ Chegwidden/Harmon Rabb, Jr., AJ
Chegwidden/Clayton Webb implied
Rating: R
Disclaimer: They belong to Bellisario, which is what
Rabb deserves, but not AJ, who at least has a brain.
Status: new/complete
Date: 8/03
Series/Sequel: This is the first in The Reverie
Series.
Summary: Rabb's screwed up, and the Admiral daydreams
of a suitable punishment. He can do that. He's the admiral, after all.
Warnings: m/m. This takes
place after Contemptuous Words, when Rabb was made a commander.
AJ isn't seeing anyone.
Notes: ~~~~ indicates the Admiral's daydream. This is
for Gail, who read the original snippet and said, "Yes, write that!"
Without her marvelous encouragement, this story would have just remained a
wistful smile whenever I thought of these two. She also helped me keep things on
the straight and narrow with her first
class beta.
Custom-made Daydream
Part 1/1
AJ Chegwidden stood at the window of his office, watching
as the sky slowly darkened. If he'd been at the ocean, the sunset would have
been spectacular.
He should have been at the ocean.
Things had been quiet at JAG for a change. He couldn't
remember the last time he'd taken some personal time, and the day had been such
a balmy summer day that he'd been unable to resist taking it off.
He had just been pulling into the public access parking lot
when his cell phone rang. It had a simple, no-nonsense ring, not like some whose
phones were programmed to play the 1812 Overture.
"Chegwidden."
"Admiral, can't you control your people?" The
biting tone of that condescending son of a bitch, Clayton Webb. "Do you
have any idea what Rabb has done this time?"
Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., had taken the bit between his
teeth and followed a course of action that had nearly sunk a sting operation the
CIA had set into action eighteen months ago.
The Admiral had been forced to return to JAG Headquarters
in Falls Church.
Fortunately, he'd managed to smooth out the situation, but
he'd ordered Rabb confined to quarters until the following day, and had assigned
two burly members of Shore Patrol to stand guard outside his door to insure that
he stayed put.
Chegwidden's mouth twisted wryly. The Commander would talk
his way out of this mess, he had no doubt of it. Rabb always did. The man had
certainly been born under a lucky star. He'd gotten out of more tight spots…
The thought of tight spots led the Admiral to images of
buttocks so taut a quarter could be bounced off them, of the pucker of an anus,
and the channel it guarded. Rabb had not only been blessed with good luck, he'd
been blessed with the looks to match. Tall, blue-eyed, with a fuckable mouth and
an ass that even a heterosexual would be tempted by.
Chegwidden had long since accepted his bisexuality,
although he seldom acted on it. His one, abiding love was the Navy, and he'd do
nothing to jeopardize his career.
Oh, but he could dream, especially now, when JAG was manned
solely by a skeleton crew, as emptied of the personnel who kept it humming as it
ever could be. Still, a wise man never took chances. He crossed to the door and
twisted the lock, then returned to the padded leather chair behind his desk, and
made himself comfortable. He unzipped his white uniform trousers, took out his
cock, and began to leisurely stroke it.
The Admiral closed his eyes and let the scene unwind in his
mind.
~~~~
AJ Chegwidden stood at the window looking out into the soft
summer twilight. There was a tap on his office door, and he heard it open, but
he didn't turn to see who was entering.
He knew who it was.
"You wanted to see me, Admiral?" Harmon Rabb,
Jr., the bane of his existence.
"Come in, Commander. And shut the door behind
you." He still didn't turn around.
Harmon Rabb crossed to the Admiral's desk and snapped to
attention. The sound of heels coming together smartly was loud in the otherwise
quiet room, and Chegwidden could imagine the younger officer giving him his
sharpest salute.
The Admiral knew Rabb would keep that position until his
superior released him. Normally that would be immediately, but this time he was
inclined to make the headstrong officer wait.
He could almost hear the Commander start to sweat.
Finally, he turned and studied the man before him
carefully. Harmon
Rabb, Jr., did as he was told. Sometimes. He always followed orders, unless, of
course, it was in the Country's best interest, or the best interest of his
fellow man, or as was most likely, in his own best interest that he not follow
orders. In which case he did whatever he damn well pleased.
Well, not this time.
This time he would do as Chegwidden pleased.
"As you were, Commander."
"Thank you, sir." Rabb stood at ease, his cover
under his arm, his arms behind his back, his legs comfortably spread.
Oh, yes. Very comfortably spread. The Admiral let his eyes rest for a brief second on the fly of Rabb's summer whites. He could imagine the bulge that was concealed behind it. He licked his lips and casually circled the younger man. This time his eyes rested on the ass that could be the star attraction of any man's wet dreams. One day, perhaps, he'd have Harmon Rabb on his hands and knees and fuck that ass.
He came to a halt before him. "Do you have any idea
why I sent for you, Commander?"
"I have to assume…" He bit off whatever he was
going to say. "No, sir."
Chegwidden rested his hip on the corner of his desk and
folded his arms across his chest. He stared into Rabb's blue eyes, an eyebrow
elevated. "No?"
"Er…"
"Do you live to make my life miserable, Rabb?"
The Commander's mouth opened and closed. He swallowed.
"Beg pardon, sir?"
Chegwidden answered with exaggerated patience. "I
received a phone call from Clayton Webb this afternoon."
Rabb's eyes became cautious. "Webb, sir? What did he
want?"
"Your ass in a sling, Commander. Apparently you've
been a very bad boy. However, as your commanding officer, it was my ass that got
chewed out because of your actions."
"Sir, I assure you, it was in the Country's best
interests…"
The Admiral raised his hand, forestalling any excuses.
"I don't want to hear it, Rabb. Today was supposed to be my day off, and
instead I had to spend it kissing Clayton Webb's lily-white butt." He
pushed himself off the desk and stood directly in front of the younger man.
"Sir…"
"I have had enough, Commander."
Rabb's expression became mulish. "Sir…"
Chegwidden thrust his face close enough to Rabb's to smell
the aftershave he favored. "Enough, I said." And he knew Rabb could
feel his breath on his lips.
"Sir…" Now he was looking slightly panicky.
"You really don't know when to keep that mouth of
yours shut, do you, Commander? Well, perhaps I can find something else for you
to do with it. On your knees."
"Please, sir…"
"Do I have to repeat myself, Harm?" he asked
conversationally. The first time he'd said the younger man's given name, and he
used it like a caress.
Rabb wet his lips and dropped his eyes. "No,
sir." He forgot himself enough to fiddle with his cover.
"You're not going to need that." AJ took the
white cover with its gold braid and black brim and dropped it on his desk.
"You know what I want, don't you, Harm?"
Rabb wet his lips again. "Yes, sir."
"Then do it."
He dropped to his knees before AJ. The Admiral was pleased
with the speed of his obedience.
"Good boy." He watched through slitted eyes as the younger man reached for his zipper, slid it down and took his cock out. The head was flushed a dark rose, and beads of pre come were already oozing at the tip. He had been hard since he'd heard the knock on his door.
Harm looked up at him, and he could read anticipation in
the wide, blue eyes.
"Carry on, Commander."
"Yes, sir!"
AJ forced himself to keep his eyes open, when all he wanted
to do was close them and savor the feel of Rabb's tongue stroking the length of
his shaft, curling around it and tugging, licking the pre come from the tip.
Then Rabb blew across the tip and wrapped his lips around the Admiral's cock,
working it industriously, and AJ bit down to prevent a groan from escaping his
lips.
"Very nice, Harm!" he murmured hoarsely. The
Commander had braced his hands on AJ's hips to balance himself, and AJ twisted
his fingers in Rabb's hair and thrust forward, making Rabb deep-throat him.
The dark head bobbed back and forth, and the Admiral hummed
as knowledgeable fingers reached into his shorts, found his balls, ran a finger
over the hair-roughened skin.
AJ came, and Harm swallowed greedily.
~~~~
AJ Chegwidden sat in his chair, his trousers opened and his
legs spread, a sated expression on his face. He opened his eyes and wiped the
remains of his climax from his hand with the handkerchief he'd had ready. Once
that was done, he put it in his pocket.
Lazily he rose to his feet. He'd need to pay a quick visit
to the washroom.
After pissing, he tucked his cock away and did up his
trousers, then washed his hands and went back into his office.
A glance at his desk clock told him it was still early.
There was plenty of time to stop for dinner at one of the little restaurants
that dotted the road between
The Admiral smoothed a hand over his head and settled his
cover at a jaunty angle. He paused at the door, turning to take a quick look
back at his office.
This time he pictured that irritating, pain-in-the-ass
Clayton Webb on his hands and knees, shaking and sweating and moaning as AJ
shoved his cock into him and pounded that tight CIA ass, and his cock twitched.
Well, another night.
AJ was softly whistling the 1812 Overture as he pulled the
door shut behind him.
~End~
